You'll Be in My Heart
by xxzebrasxx
Summary: Ziio starts to regret from splitting with Haytham and hopes to find him again, but finds herself a little too deep in the Templar and Assassin conflict than she planned to. Very AU!
1. Dwelling on the Past-Prolouge

**Summary: Ziio starts to regret from splitting with Haytham and hopes to find him again, but finds herself a little too deep in the Templar and Assassin conflict than she planned to. Very AU! (Sorry, I'm very bad at summaries! :P)**

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for checking out my story, and by the way this is my first Assassin's Creed Fanfic, so I hope everyone likes it. Reviews are greatly appreciated! Enjoy!**

**P.S. Sorry for the cheesy title, I will probably change it later on.**

Chapter One: Dwelling on the Past

My mind keeps going back to the days when it was only me and Haytham in the forest camping together. There were no worries, only our love. We spent three weeks together and I had never felt the way I did about anyone else in my life.

We learned lots from each other; maybe that's why we were so drawn to each other. I taught him how to climb trees and hunt; and in exchange, he taught me how to use a sword and told me about the Templars. He'd even tell me in exact detail what life was like in Europe, especially London, which I found most intriguing.

Everything seemed to be perfect. The two of us had the best of times, acting like children. We would chase each other in the trees and I'd push him into the river then he'd pull me in too. At night, he held me in his arms underneath the shining stars and told me stories about his travels in Europe. I had no idea he had such a rough childhood, losing his father, sister, and later his mother. Most of the stories were of him chasing down the point-eared man, the one who killed his father. I told him about my childhood too, but there wasn't much to tell, instead I told him of my people and even taught him so words in my language. I think the most important thing I taught Haytham was how to have fun.

I remember our last day together vividly. I had awoken early to go hunting for our morning meal and left without a sound, letting Haytham sleep until the sun had risen. I was joyful as ever, just thinking of Haytham and how in love I seemed to be. The only thing I managed to obtain was a rabbit and some bird eggs. It seemed to me that my mind wasn't on hunting, which it wasn't; it seemed only to be fixed on Haytham.

On my way back to camp, the sun was now above the horizon, I noticed a tiny fire Haytham had started to cook the meat I had brought back, however, someone unexpected was there: Charles Lee. He was standing next to his horse talking to Haytham. I dropped the meat and skins and stealthily climbed up the nearby tree to hear what Lee had to say. Haytham had been concerned about the Templars over the past couple days and worried one of them might show up, and he turned out to be right. I crouched near the trunk of the tree and listened.

It had only sounded like Lee wanted him to return to Boston, but then I heard Lee say, "Braddock died of his wounds this morning." My jaw dropped slightly as his words continued to spin around my head. _"This morning"_? Did Haytham lie to me? I didn't want to believe it. Why would he lie to me? I trusted him completely after we worked so hard together to bring the Bulldog down. I then remembered my mother's words, "All white men lie." My heart shattered. I thought Haytham was different.

Charles Lee then handed Haytham a letter and mounted his horse and robe back towards Lexington. When Lee was out of sight, Haytham turned around and said, "You can come out now, Ziio." He must've heard me approach the camp.

I jumped out of the tree and marched over to Haytham; my face grew hot and my fists balled up. "This morning?" I shouted a little too loudly, I noticed the birds flew from their nests in the trees because of my startling voice.

Haytham took a step back and looked confused, "I'm sorry, but what do you mean by 'this morning'?"

"Braddock! He died t_his_ morning!" I cried out, trying to hold back a laugh of disbelief and of disgust. Haytham bit his lip and looked apologetic when he finally got what I had meant. "You told me you killed him!" There was a moment of silence, and I noticed I was breathing loudly.

"Look," he sighed, finally looking me in the eyes, "I wanted to morally wound him so that he could suffer for what he had down."

Immediately after he stopped speaking, I ranted on, "That's not the point! You lied! You lied, Haytham." I could feel my eyes watering up, but I quickly blinked it away, I wasn't going to let him see me cry. "You lied to me so you could get your Templar hands on my people's sacred land!"

"Ziio, please, I'm sorry." Haytham reached out an arm to touch my shoulder, or perhaps to pull me close to him, which I may have secretly wanted, but I was too angry.

"Don't!" I slapped his arm. I took a couple steps back, and in a faint whisper, I said, "Go away, and don't return to me people's land." I wasn't sure if he had heard me, because I spoke so softly, but after a moment, Haytham nodded and backed away.

He grabbed his hat and coat, along with his satchel. "Ziio, I'm truly sorry, I didn't want to hurt you. I do love you." I turned my head away and listened as he walked off in the same direction Charles Lee had.

Now, two months later, I sit back in Kanathaséton, dwelling on the past. Should I have let Haytham go so easily? The more I tell myself that I did the right thing, the less I believe it. My mother had always taught me to forgive and forget, which I tried to do with anyone who I argued with, shouldn't he deserve the same?

People have begun to notice I wasn't the same, and they'd be right. I was depressed, and I would stay inside my hut to hide it. However, my people knew me better, they knew I didn't hide. I think when I would say that, I was only making excuses. The real reason I was becoming so secretive was because I was beginning to think I was pregnant. The entire village would hate me if they found out I was carrying a white man's child. However, the Clan Mother, who was also my mother, eventually found out I was pregnant. She didn't ask who the father was, but I knew she knew it was Haytham. The word did spread, and rumors were made of who the father was. None directly asked me who the father was; I assumed that they knew it was Haytham. I began to realize that maybe our relationship wasn't so secretive like I thought it was, or tried to make it.

I continued with my life, trying to push the memories of Haytham aside, but I just couldn't. One night, I found myself walking in the direction of Lexington while looking for eagle feathers. Just out of curiosity, I continued on the same path, all the way to the Wright Tavern. Maybe, just maybe, Haytham would be sitting there and I could tell him I was sorry for yelling at him and sending him off. I walked in and grabbed a seat in the corner, observing the pub. There were lots of drunken men, and some women too, but none were Haytham. I let my mind slip into the time when we both came here together for the first time, and how he'd gotten into that fight and got that ugly gash in his face. I looked over to the same barstools where we sat as I addressed his wound. I smiled to myself, and figured I best be moving on.

It wasn't the last time I visited the Wright Tavern, hoping to see Haytham, or for a clue that he had been there. I seemed to visiting the pub three days out of the week. Sometimes I even traveled to Boston, looking into the crowds for Haytham. I was careful not to travel too far into the city, since I didn't want to cause any trouble, especially with the nasty men who despise my people. However, as I became more pregnant, the less I traveled. And the more I missed Haytham.


	2. Questions

Chapter 2: Questions

Two years had gone by since Haytham had left; I didn't think of him nearly as much as I did when he first left. The only reminder I had of him was our son, Ratonhnhaké:ton, who is my pride and joy. He shared my eyes and dark complexion while he had more of Haytham's facial features, like his nose and mouth. Him and I spend lots of time together and most of its away from our village. We take our own trips every so often and sleep out in the woods underneath the stars. It has been a lovely summer to do so too. On hot days we spend our time on the riverbanks; Ratonhnhaké:ton would play in the sand while I'd fish for our lunch, then I would give gentle splashes at him that would make him laugh. He seems to be learning a lot out in the forest, in fact, Ratonhnhaké:ton seems to be able to climb trees better than he can walk at only two years old.

The reason why we leave the village so often is because of the Clan Mother, who is also my mother. She does nothing about the white men that keep moving closer and closer to our boarders, when I keep telling her that we need to do something. It makes me angry that we don't do anything; we need to stand up for our land, otherwise the white men will think that we are weak and take it away from us. More and more my mother and I disagree on things and the majority of my people agree with the Clan Mother rather than me. So in order to relax myself, I enjoy the time with my son alone.

My son surprised me with a question that I didn't think he would ask until he was older, and I would have a better response. Right before we fell asleep, he sat up and put his hands on my side and peaked over my body to see if I was still awake. "Mama?"

"Hmm?" I was nearly asleep we he got my attention; I flipped over so that I lied on my other side and he sat back on his bed.

"Where is papa?" I blinked a couple times and looked over his expression to make sure I knew what he had said. I was really shocked, he never asked about that before. He must have wondered from being with the other children and their families.

I, of course, wouldn't lie to him saying that Haytham was dead or he left because he wanted to; I told myself when Ratonhnhaké:ton was born that I would never teach him that lying is okay. "Your papa had left," I knew that was an awful response and led to more questions.

"Yes, but why?" Ratonhnhaké:ton's eyes were sparkling in the star light and they were hard to resist, you just had to give him a straight answer.

"Well," I was trying to find the right words to tell him, "He lied, Ratonhnhaké:ton, he lied. He lied to me, which made me very upset."

"So he left then?" I nodded my head. "Why?"

I smiled to myself; I always loved children, always questioning the world around them and their curiosity. "I told him too. Lying is not an okay thing to do, and what he did really hurt me."

Ratonhnhaké:ton looked over my face curiously, he was probably wondering if he should keep asking me questions. I wondered what kind of answer he's looking for. "Why did he lie?" He moved closer to my side and lied down by me and I put my arm around him.

I let out a sigh before letting out an answer, "It's a complicated story, and maybe it would be better if I told you when you were older."

"No, no! I'll understand, I promise!" I have to admit, for being nearly two and half years old, Ratonhnhaké:ton is very intelligent and I knew one day he'd be very wise.

I laughed a little and gave him a squeeze, "He took advantage of my kindness to get to get into our sacred cave." I saw Ratonhnhaké:ton's mouth move into an 'o' shape.

I thought maybe he was done with the questions since he'd been quite for five minutes; I was even dozing off again. However, I was wrong; the silence was broken by another question, "Was he a good man?"

"Other than lying, Haytham was a great man," I said in almost a whisper. Staring up into the stars, I wondered if maybe he was doing the same, where ever he might be. From our many nights together, I found out he knew a lot about them and enjoyed to look up into the heavens. "In fact, he saved me from a slaver."

"Really? How'd he do it?" Ratonhnhaké:ton was suddenly full of energy again, "Can you tell me the story?"

I laughed as he began to bounce up and down again, "Another night, I promise."

Suddenly disappointed, he sighed, "alright, you promised though, so you have too."

"Don't worry, I will. Time for bed now though," Ratonhnhaké:ton let out a yawn as I said that. He lied back down on his bed and quickly fell asleep, probably with his father on his mind still. I lied wide awake for a little longer, observing the starts and listening to the crickets. I wondered how my life would be different if Haytham were still here. Would Ratonhnhaké:ton be better off having his father with him?

Haytham Kenway

I've been lying in bed for three months now, with the pain in my chest slowly going away. The three months seemed like blurs, in fact, I didn't even know that much time had passed. Jennifer and Holden had been generous enough to take care of me and nurse me back to health. The wound seemed to be getting better, I was now able to sit up in bed and write in my journal.

Jenny often came in and talked with me to keep me company. It was hard sometimes since we had so little in company. It seemed though that she knew a lot more of Assassins and Templars than I thought she did. She'd often ask if I was going to abandon the Templars now that I know of Father being an Assassin. I kept telling her I wasn't sure. She of course thought I was lying, but I really didn't know. Honestly, if I had the choice, I would stay here in France or return to Queen's Square. However, that wasn't possible. Thinking of the Assassins, and of Father, made me even angrier at Birch, and even more hatred toward him. I wished I had gotten to kill him myself. Birch was the man who turned me to this path, this path I find myself questing more and more.

When Jenny wasn't companying me, I found myself reading my journals, starting with the ones I wrote when I just turned ten. I had three journals total and always kept them in my satchel. The one I was reading was my second. I was near the end of it, rereading my arrival in America. I had written all of this almost four years when I first met Charles, William, Thomas, Benjamin and John. Now for being in Europe again for two years, I was beginning to miss the colonies, I wasn't exactly sure why either; my work led to dead ends and my men weren't always my favorite people to be around. I flipped the page and found the day after my men and I infiltrated Southgate, Benjamin Church killed Silas, and when I first met Ziio...

I reread Ziio's name a hundred times and sighed heavily. I pushed the journal off my lap and turned to look out the window, seeing the ocean that separated us apart. It would be a lie to say that I had forgotten about her. My first year back in Europe, she was all that I thought about, Jenny too of course, but Ziio always seemed to be on my mind. I often think of how stupid I was to lie to her just to see the cave that led me to abandon my work, for now at least.

I placed my journal back into my satchel at my bedside, and flipped the blankets off. I turned my legs and placed them on the floor. Taking a couple deep breaths, I lifted myself off the bed, wincing at the pain. I had to get to the desk to write a letter to Ziio, I knew it was a foolish idea and she probably never get it, and if she did, she'd probably throw in into the fire.

I took very slow step, but once I put the weight back on my foot, there was a sharp pain in my chest and side. I let out a loud grunt and fell to the floor. Jenny ran in moments later and saw me on the floor in pain. "What the hell are you doing?" She looked like an angry mother with her hands on her hips. Jenny put her arms around me, trying to avoid my wound, and pulled me back to the side of my bed, where I then leaned back against it. I breathed deeply and put my head on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath. "You knew that the doctor ordered you to stay in bed for at least another two months!" I still didn't say anything to her. "Let me ask again, what the devil where you doing?"

I moved my arms so that my elbows were on the bed and then I was going to pull myself back up. As I was trying to, Jenny slapped my arm, "I'll get Holden to help you, I wouldn't be able to pull you up."

I nodded my head, "I had to write a letter."

"A letter? To whom?" Jenny had been very nosy lately, and her asking me who I was writing to ticked me off.

"A friend." Jenny looked at me funny I don't think she believed me. Holden came into the room before she could ask any more questions.

"Alright, Haytham?" He and Jenny both walked over to me and lifted me up off the floor and helped me back onto my bed.

"Oh, never been better," I replied to him sarcastically. He gave me a smile in return, nodded and was off again. I was curious to what he was up too, since he didn't talk much anymore, due to his incident I believe. I pulled the sheets back over my legs and took another look out the window. Jenny was still there, looking at me.

"Would you like some parchment and a quill?" she finally asked.

I turned to her, "If you wouldn't mind." She walked over to the desk and fumbled through it to find a piece of parchment and quill and brought it over to me. "Thank you," I told her when she handed it to me.

"Just ask next time before you hurt yourself even more." She smiled and I did too and gave her a nod. As she exited said, "don't get ink on the blankets, I don't fancy washing them out."

I then grabbed my journal back out and used it for a hard surface to write my letter to Ziio on.

**A/N: Sorry that this is kind of another "set-up" chapter, next week's chapter will start more into the story. And I know that Connor's speech and word choice is pretty advance for a two and a half year old…but yeah, so just go along with it, please! Haha. Thanks for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing! :)**


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